


The Registry

by Joshs_left_earlobe



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, D12 Drabbles, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Romantic Fluff, everlark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-07-29 21:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7700065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joshs_left_earlobe/pseuds/Joshs_left_earlobe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss Everdeen accidentally receives an unexpected letter addressed to both her and her handsome neighbor, who she has yet to actually meet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. An Unexpected Letter

**Author's Note:**

> These drabbles were written based on prompts for d12drabbles on Tumblr. Thanks to papofglencoe for editing!! Please visit me on tumblr at joshs-left-earlobe.

“Go on home, Katniss. There’ll be more waitin’ for you tomorrow.” Sae chuckles through her raspy words. Years of smoking are evident in the old woman’s voice, but she’s a hardy soul in spite of it. “C’mon now. Get!” she cough-laughs as her dish towel whips Katniss in the rear.

 

As much as Katniss would like to give Sae her hard scowl, she knows it’s all in fun, and she whips her right back. “Be careful, woman. You taught me all of your tricks.”

 

With a hard pat on Katniss’ shoulder, Sae relents. “That I did. That I did. See you tomorrow, young thing.”

 

Once Katniss removes her soiled apron and washes her hands, she grabs her satchel from the back office and exits the door to begin her walk home. Although her apartment building is only four blocks east and three blocks north of Greasy Sae’s Deli, Katniss prefers to take a longer route home when she’s lucky enough to have some daylight left after work.

 

She takes her time following her borough’s famous Tree Walk, the weather becoming a touch warmer and more humid as summer approaches. Katniss finds pleasure in hearing the leaves flutter with the breeze, the variation in colors delighting her senses. She often wonders how many tones of green, yellow, and orange exist in nature. Her fingers skim along the flat of each leaf as she passes by; some are smooth, some glossy, some crinkle and disintegrate under her grasp.

 

As she moves along her path, she barely feels the stress of the day. Forgets about the carcasses of meat she quartered, the birds she deboned and carved, the grinding of meat to create the perfect sausage, and all those unsavory acts that feed the majority of students from State College. Her friend Madge is a vegetarian and cannot tolerate hearing anything about her work at the deli, but Sae has mentored Katniss since she was in the tenth grade and boasts that Katniss is the finest butcher she’s ever had under her employ. Her care in using as much of the meat as possible with minimal waste pleases the old woman, and she’s kept her on with a good wage. Enough pay to allow Katniss to live in a small single apartment near work and school, and even better, in a neighborhood with beautifully tree-lined streets.

 

She’s reminded of her family, how they were before her father’s death. As a child, she would often accompany him into the woods, walking gently among the trees to forage edible plants and to hunt rabbits and other small game. Her skills with hunting and cleaning prepared her for this current job, and she takes it seriously. She respects the animals, understanding that they give their lives for her and others’ sustenance. She makes the most of them, as she was taught by her father.

 

Before she realizes, her foot lands on the crooked sidewalk just outside her brick building. A short jaunt up the steps and through the front door leads her to the row of mail boxes. Katniss would never openly admit it, but she hopes for a letter from her mother or her sister, Prim. She misses them deeply since they moved out to California when Prim received a college scholarship she couldn’t pass up.

  
Her fingers card through the letters in her hand, but she sighs when it’s only a stack of bills and marketing spam. And, of course, a letter for Madge. Grumbling to herself about the constant mix-ups in their mail delivery, she turns around and promptly stops in her tracks.

 

It’s _him_.

 

He’s lived in her building since January, two doors down the hall, as a matter of fact, but they’ve yet to speak to each other. She knows his name from the mailbox, knows he leaves at the crack of dawn to go who-knows-where, knows he comes home, plays loud music for an hour, then leaves again. She hears him lumber down the hallway after midnight on those nights when she can’t sleep, when she stares at the window wishing the sunrise would appear.

 

She knows how his sandy blond hair is long enough to brush the tips of his eyelashes, and that a simple jerk of his head to the side rids himself of the annoyance. She knows he’s just tall enough that she would have to perch on her tiptoes to meet him eye to eye, and she knows how he smells after a shower.

 

That’s how he smells right now, like a walk through the woods. Earthy, with a hint of grass, cedar, and pine. Her tongue struggles to say something. Why can’t she ever say something? But instead, he flits his eyes to hers, offers a shy smile, and brushes past her in his silent departure.

 

Why can’t _he_ ever say something?

 

She exhales the breath that was stuck in her throat and shuffles lightly to Madge’s door. Only two knocks in, Madge swings the door open, greeting Katniss with a beaming smile. She twirls with her hands above her head like a ballerina and pauses as she gazes toward the ceiling of her fashionably-decorated apartment. After twenty seconds of silence, Madge turns toward Katniss.

 

“Well... what do you think?” Katniss’ puzzled expression forces Madge to continue. “For my date tonight. Have you forgotten?”

 

“It’s tonight?” Katniss can’t hide her disappointment. She relishes her Friday night girl time with Madge. She’s the only person Katniss knows who understands her, or at least tolerates her, and allows her to be the quiet one. Sometimes they’ll sit side by side, silently munching on popcorn and watching a movie together. It was Madge who helped her get into the rent-controlled apartment to begin with, so being next-door neighbors works out perfectly.

 

Madge shakes Katniss softly by the shoulders. “Look at me,” she says with a glimmer in her eyes. “You know I told you about my date. Don’t try to pretend you forgot.”

 

The truth is that Katniss _did_ forget, but it was only because she had been distracted by her own self-pity. She now remembers the night Madge told her about the date. Katniss had just gotten a call from Prim, excitedly reporting about life at school, bragging about the boys she had to fight off, sounding so happy that Katniss couldn’t help but feel sad for herself. She would be the first one to say that it had been completely selfish of her to react that way, but there she was, dwelling on herself for that moment and letting any words Madge had to say float right through her.

 

“I remember now,” Katniss said with an attempted smile. “It looks perfect for...”

 

“Dinner and dancing,” Madge interrupts and laughs. “Katniss, are you on some other planet? What’s going on?”

 

Katniss digs deep down, trying to find the positives of the situation. She’ll be able to have a glass of wine, read a book, watch a movie. Stare at her bare walls, eat canned soup. It’ll be a blast.

 

“I’m not feeling too well, Madge, but you look stunning. That guy, Garry, will consider himself lucky."

 

“Gale,” Madge corrects. “His name is Gale, Katniss. And don’t start with me on his name.”

 

Katniss laughs in earnest, delighting in how Madge gets all worked up. She puts her hands up in surrender and reassures her friend. “Forgive me, please. I’m the last person to make fun of names, considering my father named me after a root. Do you need me to stay and help you get ready?”

 

“No thanks. He’ll be here soon, so I better finish up. But I’ll make it up to you next Friday with a double feature... my treat!”

 

Katniss wraps Madge in a hug, careful not to mess with her attire. “That sounds like a plan!” she says, then releases her and walks toward the door. “Hope you have a fun date. Oh, and here.” She hands Madge the envelope addressed to her, and they share a knowing laugh about the recent mishandling of their mail.

 

“Are they ever going to fire that guy?” Madge asks, shaking her head.

 

“We’ll probably have to wait ‘til he retires.”

 

“Probably,” Madge giggles. “See ya, Kat.”

 

“See ya,” Katniss says, striding into the hallway and gazing to the left for a few seconds to glance at his door before marching through her own for the night.

 

* * *

 

With finals week behind her, Katniss is in a much lighter mood than she had been the week prior. Even Madge had complained about her attitude, and she is one of the few who tolerates Katniss’ darker side like a champ. But the school year had been wearing on Katniss, working at Sae’s along with maintaining at least a B average to keep her partial scholarship. And the audacity of the Biology department requiring so many classes with labs. Why don’t they just give double credit for those?

 

And she’s alone. Heart-achingly alone.

 

Sure, she has Madge. But since she started dating Gale exactly three weeks ago, Madge has been very distracted. Katniss doesn’t mind listening to her friend’s stories of sex and romance, but to feign happiness and interest is altogether too much for her to bear. So when Katniss finally had enough, she lashed out at Madge, and she hasn’t spoken to her all week.

 

It seems like everyone’s lives are moving forward. Madge with Gale, Prim with school, her mom and the new hospital program she’s developing in California, but Katniss’ life has become stale. Work, school, sleep. The cycle of her life, ever-turning, yet not going anywhere.

 

As she walks with determination up her steps, she vows to apologize to Madge. She knows she was in the wrong and wants to beg her forgiveness. It’s the beginning of summer, and she needs her friend back, even if it’s part-time. She practices different ways to speak the words that are so difficult for her to say. She opens the door and imagines herself kneeling in front of her. No, that’s a little dramatic. She pulls her mail from her box and rehearses apologetic verses she’s heard from her favorite movies, but it’s all too contrived.

 

She arrives at Madge’s door and knocks. When the blonde, usually upbeat girl she knows swings the door open, face full of pain and eyes full of sorrow, all Katniss can do is drop everything and hold her. Tears and apologies and sobbing is followed very soon by questions and answers. And all Katniss has to do is be honest, and it feels authentic and true.

 

So now that all the crying has been replaced by laughter, the ladies plan their Friday night— the first official girls’ night of summer. Madge recommends going out to a bar by the campus, living it up, rather than a quiet night at home. Katniss reluctantly agrees, still trying to make up for her poor behavior of late. She picks up her bag along with the mail she had dropped on the floor upon entering and goes next door to her apartment to change.

 

Katniss is ready before Madge, as usual, so she sits at the table to wait, flipping through the day’s mail. Bill, junk, junk, bill, letter, junk— wait— not just a letter, a handwritten envelope from Capitol Department Store addressed to Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen?

 

Dumbfounded yet curious about the contents, she opens it swiftly and reads to herself:

 

> _Dear Mr. Mellark and Ms. Everdeen,_
> 
>  
> 
> _Capitol Department Store is pleased that you have opened an online Wedding Registry for your forthcoming nuptials. We noticed that you have only begun to choose items for your registry and would like to extend our concierge services to you in order to complete your selections. We are located on the third floor by the China and Housewares Department. Please see Effie Trinket, our supervising wedding concierge, for assistance when you arrive. It is often much easier to choose with our expert help, and Ms. Trinket is at your service between the hours of 10 am - 5 pm Monday through Friday._
> 
>  
> 
> _Thank you once again, and we hope to make this transition a special one._
> 
>  
> 
> _Sincerely,_
> 
>  
> 
> _Plutarch Heavensbee_
> 
> _Capitol Department Store, State College, PA_
> 
> _Director, Online Marketing and Sales_

 

Her hands shake and her mouth falls slack as she fumbles to review the envelope once again. There it is, in beautiful cursive handwriting: _Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen._ Upon further inspection, it’s addressed to _his_ apartment— another mess-up by the mailman.

 

His address. And her name. Next to his name. Their names together?

 

A myriad of thoughts fly through her mind. It could be a practical joke, a mistake, but why?

 

What if...

 

A smile tugs at her lips. What if?

 

A knock at the door startles her back to Friday night— girls’ night. She hollers for Madge to come in while she stuffs the letter into her bag. She has no idea what is going on, but Katniss Everdeen is more than ready to get out of the apartment tonight.

 

* * *

 

Katniss is known to be impulsive, so the wait until Monday feels like weeks rather than days. She even risks being caught, pulling the letter out by his mailbox just to be sure that’s really his name on the address. How could they make this mistake? Why would there be a registry under both their names?

 

Then it hits her. It’s addressed to him. It must have been a practical joke from a friend. Maybe there is no Effie Trinket. Maybe one of his buddies, whom she has yet to ever see, took a random name from his apartment building and wrote up a mock letter to freak him out. Yes, that must be it; there really is no other reasonable explanation.

 

Determined to find out, Katniss takes the bus to Capitol first thing Monday morning. Katniss hasn’t been inside a store like Cappy’s since they bought Prim’s graduation dress here last year. Who really has money for all these nonessentials?

 

The signs lead her way to the elevators, where she rides up to the third floor. The elevators alone are a treat. The clear glass panels reveal the entire store at a bird’s eye view. She touches the panes with the flat of her palm, gazing silently at all the fine goods that won’t ever make it into her home.

 

The ding signals her exit, so she steps out into a lobby full of crystal. Shelving lines the walls with cut glass vases, sculptures, bowls, and frames. She instinctively tucks her hands into her pockets for fear of knocking any of the expensive pieces down. Katniss never thought of herself as a girly girl, wanting pretty things to decorate her home, but now that she’s immersed in it, she feels a surge of hope flowing from her head to her toes.

 

“Excuse me, dear, may I help you?” Katniss shifts toward the unfamiliar voice to respond, but is taken aback by the woman’s strange appearance.

 

Her hair is pink with gold tips, framing a starkly pale face. She bats her golden eyelashes as she waits for Katniss to speak, pursing her bright pink lips in disdain. Katniss can only imagine that her clothes appear to be straight off the runway since she has only seen models in magazines wear apparel as ghastly and odd as hers.

 

“Are you lost, my dear?” The condescension drips from her voice as Katniss remains mute. That is, until she focuses on her name badge reading, _Effie Trinket_.

 

“Effie Trinket!” Katniss exclaims. “You’re real.”

 

The living example of Glamour Magazine’s “What Not To Wear” replies drolly, “Of course darling, I am most certainly real. How is it that you know me?”

 

Katniss fumbles around her purse for the letter and shoves it in Effie’s direction. “Here. I received this the other day, and I think there’s been a mistake.”

 

Effie’s eyes scan the letter as she glides toward her desk and takes a seat in front of the computer. She types on the keyboard, the clicking from the tips of her nails creating a kind of beat that causes Katniss to start humming unconsciously until the tune ceases abruptly.

 

“Well, Miss Everdeen, there is no mistake. You are indeed registered to one Peeta Mellark; however, the registry appears to be incomplete. There is no date set, and there are only two items selected.” Effie wrinkles her nose as she says, “And they’re both cutlery items.”

 

Before thinking, Katniss asks, “May I see those items please? I— I think the registry was started before I had a chance to look myself.”

 

She guides Katniss over to one corner of the department, next to the pots and pans. Her eyes go wide as she takes in all the glimmering stainless steel and the variety of knife handles that are displayed before her. Her hand automatically rests on the acrylic cabinet, craving to touch each and every one. But instead, she waits as Effie uses a key to obtain the two knives that had already been entered on the registry.

 

“Here we go, dear,” Effie says as she lays the knives onto the counter. “Both are from the Mason line of cutlery, which is the crème de la crème. Notice the pearlized handles and the heavy feel of the knives in your hand?”

 

Katniss holds each knife, one a 9” double-serrated bread knife and the other, a 10” butcher’s knife. She inspects them closely, not used to knives being so... pretty. She uses knives everyday at work, but she’s never held a butcher’s knife of this quality. The handhold is perfect, with just enough weight to give leverage as she cuts, and the blade itself is thick and curved at the tip, perfect for so many of the tasks she performs at Sae’s.

 

She doesn’t know one person who could afford to purchase this knife for themselves, let alone as a wedding gift. What’s the point of filling out a registry full of expensive items when no one can buy them for you?

 

She hands the knives back to Effie. “Thank you for showing me these. I’m sorry to have taken your time, but I better be going now.” Although the mystery has not been solved, Katniss has a feeling she’s in way over her head. She has no idea who is playing this prank on her, but it’s someone that knows she’s a butcher, or they wouldn’t have chosen that knife. But what about the bread knife?

 

Effie takes the knives and places a scanner in her hand. “Why don’t you stay and choose some more things for your registry, dear. It’s so paltry only having two items. Don’t you agree?”

 

“But you don’t understand—this—this is a huge mistake.”

 

Effie takes Katniss by the elbow, steering her toward the crystal and china. “I understand how brides get cold feet just as much as the grooms, but maybe it will cheer you up to pick out a few things, put you in a better mood. You know, to help picture how your life will be together. Sometimes imagining how it will feel eating from these beautiful plates and sipping from the sparkling crystal makes everything seem that much better.”

 

Katniss cringes at Effie’s enthusiasm, but can’t help wondering how fun it might be to pretend. Plus, it would make it so much easier to choose a few things and get Effie off her back. She grips the scanner tightly, looks into her ardent assistant’s eyes, and says, “Okay. Show me how to work this thing.”

 

* * *

 

It’s well past two by the time Katniss finds herself stepping off the bus near home. Her stomach rumbles, so she quickly darts into the bakery for a rare treat. She’s in a celebratory mood, having chosen all the fine china, crystal, and silverware—literally utensils made of silver— that she will never own or use. And even though some might find that sad, she found it strangely cathartic. Growing up with little money, Katniss learned to survive, her life becoming a day to day effort to keep going, keep moving forward. But every once in awhile, she would gaze at another girl’s beautiful dress and wonder how it would feel. Or she would look through the windows of a fancy restaurant imagining how the food might taste that much better served on fine china.

 

Now that she’s held it all in her hands and has chosen her favorite leaf-rimmed dinnerware, simple but elegant crystal, and plain yet feminine flatware, she realizes it’s only stuff. More stuff on which to spend money, to fill one’s cupboards, and give one a false sense of security. It doesn’t comfort you when you’re down, make you laugh at your worst moments, and help you feel whole again. But that knowledge is powerful for Katniss, and she’s pleased that she spent the time at Cappy’s discovering what she’s already known: a plate is a plate, a glass is a glass, and a fork is a fork. It’s who you share it with that makes all the difference.

 

And with that thought and a cheese-covered bagel in her hand, she becomes more somber, her cheery mood of revelation replaced by a sense of longing she can’t quite understand.

 

It’s because she misses her family, she tells herself, taking a big bite of the the warm, cheesy snack. Or more likely, it’s because she really needed to eat, she surmises, chewing ravenously as she gets closer to home. Her belly full, she brushes crumbs from her lips as she bounds up the stairs of her building.

 

She opens the door, and that’s when their eyes meet. Peeta Mellark, her faux fiancé, scrutinizes Katniss as she pushes her way past him. His mouth parts slightly as if he wants to speak, but whatever words he has remain dormant on his tongue. Alarm fills her chest as everything she’s done today reemerges in her mind. What was she thinking? Fearing that he’ll be able to see right through her and learn her secret, she fixes her eyes to the ground, and hurries past him toward her apartment.

 

She hears him call out to her, but doesn’t realize it until she’s safe and sound in her apartment, with her back against the door. Between heavy breaths, her lips slowly curve to a smile.

 

He knows her name.


	2. The Eavesdropper

A week passes and Katniss has become creative in finding ways to avoid her handsome, blue-eyed neighbor. As much as she would like to get to know him, the awkwardness of the situation is too much for her to bear. So she’s hidden in the elevator, popped in on Madge unannounced, tied her shoes behind the bushes outside, and even shadowed a dog walker. She realizes her avoidance of Peeta Mellark is becoming a challenge, and in an effort to rectify the matter, Katniss takes another bus trip to the Capitol department store. 

 

She spots Effie Trinket in the same place she met her before. Katniss approaches cautiously, clearing her throat when she steps in front of the large mahogany desk. Effie looks up to her and beams. She glances at her computer, punching a few buttons.

 

“Ms. Everdeen, what a wonderful surprise! Have you and...” 

 

Effie scans the computer screen as Katniss throws in, “Mr. Mellark.”

 

As she says his name, Katniss shakes her head imperceptibly, ashamed of how far she’s taken this charade. 

 

“Yes! Mr. Mellark.” Rising from her seat, Effie smooths down her turquoise skirt adorned with crystals around an asymmetrical hemline. “Have you come to start scanning your linens or cookware? If I recall, you were only shopping in the fine tableware last week.”

 

Katniss chews on her lip, trying to avoid biting her nails like she usually does in nerve-wracking situations. “That’s the thing, um... I think I made a mistake. I need to ask for you to delete everything I chose.”

 

Effie’s surprised gasp causes Katniss to flinch, taking a defensive step back. 

 

“But it’s your big, big, big day we’re talking about here, Ms. Everdeen. You can’t just delete  _ that _ !” Effie’s voice punches her final consonant. “What will the groom say? Have you thought about how  _ he _ will feel?”

 

Katniss’ brows knit with confusion. “I’m sorry about the inconvenience, Ms. Trinket, but I’m simply asking for you to delete my selections. I didn’t come here to discuss my engagement.” 

 

Katniss can barely stand there, mortified at even saying the word “engagement,” as if it were really a thing. But she can see she deeply offended Effie Trinket, as her cheeks have bloomed a brighter shade of red and her lips have pursed even more than usual. 

 

“Well, I can’t believe the audacity! I am more than a clerk, Ms. Everdeen. I am also a servant to those beginning their lives together in wedded bliss.” Effie composes herself as she continues. “I understand that some people might become anxious as they plan this next stage, but that’s natural. There’s no need to delete everything you chose.”

 

Katniss decides to take a different approach. “I understand, and I’m sorry if my manners got away from me. But this engagement is a little different from most.” She chews her fingernail, thinking of what to say, and then it came to her. “I jumped the gun, Ms. Trinket. I was supposed to wait for Mr. Mellark to choose, and I’m afraid he’ll become upset when he finds that I’ve selected items on my own.”

 

Relief washes over Effie’s face as she realizes the predicament Katniss has gotten herself into. “Oh dear, I understand. It is very normal to be so excited that you want to start everything yourself. Here’s what I’ll do. I’ll print everything out that you already selected, so you don’t have to do that all over again, and then I’ll remove it from the system.”

 

“Thank you, Ms. Trinket. I think that will be exactly what I need.”

 

“You’re welcome, dear. And please call me Effie from now on.” She moves over to her desk and looks back to Katniss. “It will take about five to ten minutes— if you want to get a start on choosing some bed linens, they’re over on the other side of the floor. Write down any styles and colors you like, and when you both return together it will save so much time!”

 

Katniss smiles, accepting the proffered pad and pencil, and takes Effie’s advice by heading over to the linen department. It wouldn’t hurt choosing some nice things that she could imagine sleeping in at home. In her own room. Alone.

 

She moves alongside the fully made beds with their soft, inviting comforters, running her fingertips across the fabric. She imagines how it would feel to fall asleep with someone next to her. Not the drunken, post-sex, pass out sleep, but the warm, cuddly, I-love-you-more-than-anything kind of sleep. Katniss has experienced a few of the former, but has only dreamed of the latter.

 

A downy white comforter splashed with bright yellow flowers beckons her from across the room. She pounces on top of it, her head landing on the array of pillows decorating the display. The colors taunt her, telling her to buy it, or at least to write a note on her paper. She rolls onto her stomach and scans the pattern; it’s an assortment of spring flowers, daffodils, daisies, and dandelions. She traces the pattern, happily consumed by the thought of spending a night under this fluffy spread. Katniss pulls out her pad and pencil, jotting down all the information. She may be able to save up for this one day. 

 

With a final huff, Katniss makes her way back to Effie, sure she has printed out her list by now, but stops short when she thinks she hears a man’s voice close by. It couldn’t be  _ him _ , could it? Surely he wouldn’t be here, would he? She camouflages herself carefully behind the shelves housing all the frames to see if it’s really him or if it’s her mind playing tricks on her. 

 

But there he stands, running his hand nervously through his sandy, blond hair. His face crimson as he speaks to Effie. Katniss needs to hear what he’s saying, and—oh, shit! What is Effie saying to him?

 

She creeps silently toward the wall and moves along it, hoping no one acknowledges her or sees her listening in on their conversation. It’s moments like these when she’s grateful to have a naturally light tread. 

 

“I’m telling you, Ms. Trinket. This is a mistake. A huge mistake!” 

 

“Why don’t you have a seat, Mr. Mellark, and we can figure out how to rectify the problem.” Chairs shuffle before Effie says, “That’s much better, isn’t it?”

 

“Everything will be much better if you could just cancel that registry. Here, you guys sent me another letter I haven’t even opened, and I get emails practically everyday.”

 

Effie laughs, “Well, of course you receive emails and letters. We’re trying to encourage you to complete your registry, after all. There’s barely a thing listed, and you don’t even have a date set.” 

 

Katniss bites on her lip to contain a giggle at Effie’s tone of disbelief. God forbid a couple who doesn’t know each other fail to set a wedding date! 

 

“Listen, this whole thing is haunting me. I can’t act like a normal person anymore because of what happened one night— one stupid night I regret. Can you please just do as I ask and press whatever buttons you need to remove any evidence that says I’m marrying Katniss Everdeen?”

 

Haunting...  _ regret _ ? Katniss’ bliss turns to sorrow as she hears her neighbor confess how embarrassed he is to be associated with her. She blinks rapidly to fight back the tears and searches for a way to escape without being caught. 

 

Effie’s confusion is apparent. “Just one night and you decided to get married? Well, I guess I understand why you both might think this is a mistake.”

 

“Both?” Peeta asks. 

 

Katniss stands frozen in her spot behind the wall.

 

“Both what?” Effie asks innocently. 

 

“I heard you say that we both think this is a mistake. Have you— have you  _ talked to Katniss _ ?” 

 

“Um... well.” Effie is a horrible liar.

 

Katniss hears the chair and a scuffle behind her. She’s dying to know what’s going on but doesn’t dare show her face right now. How awful and humiliating would that be?

 

“Dear Mr. Mellark and Ms. Everdeen, we are so pleased to have helped you build your registry this week. Please come again soon so we may help you further. Yours in service, Effie Trinket.” Peeta finishes reading the letter, then in a voice that sounds more like a child than a grown man, he asks, “Was it her?”

 

She barely discerns a whispered “yes” from Effie before Peeta starts up again. “How could she have known? How... why... I can’t understand why she would pick out things for the registry when she doesn’t even know me.”

 

Katniss hides her face in her hands, waiting for the ax to fall. Lonely girl pretending she’s a princess. How cliché.

 

“You know, some people fall in love at first sight. If you two spent only one night together, that might be all you need. This might not actually be a mistake.” She has to hand it to her— Effie’s trying her best, even though she has no idea what’s really going on.

 

“No, no, no,” Peeta corrects. “When I said one night, it wasn’t... oh my God. I can’t believe I have to admit to this. Okay.” Katniss’ ears perk up to listen as she hears him settle back into his chair. “I came home late one night from my friend’s wedding reception and was feeling buzzed and lonely and— romantic. You know... all the things one feels at weddings.”

 

“Go on,” Effie urges, apparently as interested in what he has to say as Katniss is.

 

“I looked at their wedding registry that night to see what they had picked out, and that made me think of how much their lives will change. How much better they’ll be together than apart. Anyway, I hit a few buttons and typed in her name. I’m not sure why. I had only moved into her building in January, but there’s something about her. She has this... effect on me. I can’t even speak around her. So that’s what happened. It’s a big mistake, and I’m sorry I’ve involved you in this as well.”

 

Katniss slowly drags her hands from her face. Her legs go limp as the realization of what Peeta just confessed courses its way through her body. She steadies herself against the wall so she doesn’t cause a scene, but can’t help being dizzy over this revelation. 

 

Did Peeta Mellark just admit to feeling romantic about her? He was lonely and wanted to pretend they were getting married?

 

“Maybe you should talk to her. Tell her you’ll start smaller, like take her on a date before the wedding.” Turns out Effie is pretty funny. 

 

Peeta chuckles sadly. “That would be great if she wasn’t so obviously trying to avoid me. But at least I know why—she found out I’m a creep.”

 

Katniss turns toward his voice. If only she could see him and let him know that she feels the same way. But then they’re both creeps, aren’t they? Would he laugh it off or shy away from her again? She glances back over to the bedding, remembering her dreams, and wondering if it’s worth the risk to find someone to share them with.

 

“You’re not a creep,” Katniss declares, her mind set on taking a chance as she steps around from the protective wall. “I heard everything, and I’m sorry I was eavesdropping, but I was so embarrassed about what I’d done.”

 

She moves toward a shocked Effie and a confused Peeta, holding her hand toward her would-be fiancé. “Hi, I’m Katniss Everdeen. I live in your building. I’m a butcher at Sae’s Deli and attend college at night.”

 

Peeta stands, his gaze roaming over Katniss’ face, then down to her proffered hand. He takes his time placing his strong hand into her small but sturdy one as his eyes trace a line from where they’re joined all the way back to her worried frown. His look of apprehension slowly gives way to a beaming smile that becomes even sunnier as Katniss’ scowl melts away.

 

“Nice to finally meet you, Katniss. I’m Peeta Mellark. I work at my parents’ bakery by day and go to art school at night.”

 

“Ah, that makes sense. You’re a baker.” 

 

“Yeah, how does that make sense?”

 

Katniss points to the cutlery, remembering the only two items that had been chosen on the registry. “The knives. Those were the only items on the registry— a bread knife and a butcher’s knife. But, how do you know I’m a butcher?”

 

“Remember when you said I’m not a creep?” 

 

Katniss nods at Peeta’s question. 

 

“Keep that in mind when I tell you that Sae’s is very close to our bakery. She came in one day to pick up some loaves of bread from my father, and she couldn’t stop talking about her beautiful, young butcher. I was really curious, so I had lunch there one day and saw you working in the back, humming a song to yourself. At that moment, I knew I was a goner.” 

 

Katniss doesn’t know how to respond to his admission, the traitorous blush rising from her neck to her cheeks as she looks into his sincere gaze. 

 

Peeta runs his hand through his locks and asks earnestly, “Aren’t you going to say something?”

 

Katniss looks to him and then to Effie. She has so much she wants to say, but this is all so unexpected. She finally blurts out, “Effie, I’m sorry, but we need to go. We have a lot of ground to cover. I’m sure you understand.”

 

She gives them each a polite hug and sends them on their way. “I want to see you both back here soon. Effie’s orders!”

 

They laugh as they walk away, Peeta’s hand grasping Katniss’ as their fingers intertwine. She decides she likes the feel of his hand in hers just as much as she likes walking by his side. 

 

Peeta stops in front of the elevator and speaks, breaking their comfortable silence. “So you have to tell me how you found out about the wedding registry.” 

 

Katniss shakes her head and grins, “I’m going to blame that on the mailman.”


	3. Dreams

“And another three-pointer for Everdeen!” Katniss exclaims, entertaining herself as she shoots yet another piece of dirty laundry into her wash basket.

 

She scans each room one more time for any clothes in need of cleaning and spots a pair of jeans folded on her desk chair. Her hand dips into each pocket, taking care to avoid another costly fiasco, like last fall, when she missed a half-eaten bag of Skittles in the pocket of her hoodie. She cried for two days over that mistake.

 

She stares quizzically at the note she finds in the jeans, but the words, _Spring Meadow SM-0508 $289.99,_ remind her instantly what it is— her attempt at a wish list. She can’t help smiling as she posts the paper on her refrigerator with a magnet, just underneath her sister’s graduation picture. Katniss kisses her finger and places it lovingly on Prim’s rosy face.

 

“Miss you, little duck,” she says sweetly, noticing how her sister’s hair is almost Peeta’s shade, but perhaps brighter. “I can’t wait to tell you my news.”

 

She giggles, which is news in itself. Katniss hasn’t done something like that in a long while, especially because of a man. And since the other day, when she and Peeta left hand in hand from Capitol Department Store, she might admit that she’s actually been... happy.

 

As if his admission to being attracted to Katniss wasn’t enough, he was also considerate, caring, and generous. After they’d taken the elevator down and exited the store, he offered to buy her lunch. But it wasn’t just any lunch. He took her to his family’s bakery and packed up a box full of decadent treats, adding her favorite cheese bagels, which he confessed were his favorite too.

 

He must have sneaked in the bottle of champagne and plastic cups while she had been distracted by all the carby goodness, because once the couple had found a perfect spot in the park and he popped the cork, she jumped in surprise.

 

“Shh,” he said in a low tone, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “We don’t want to get caught imbibing in public.”

 

She was already flushed before her first sip. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

 

They drank, ate, and shared stories until their bellies were full and their voices hoarse. Katniss couldn’t remember a time when she had laughed so much, her cheeks becoming sore from it. She realized that the mailman’s mistake was definitely a good thing and that she wanted to see a lot more of Peeta Mellark.

 

So when the sun had taken its place behind the trees and the blue sky had dimmed to an orangey hue, Peeta’s arm found its way around Katniss’ waist, and her head rested softly on his shoulder. They sat together, quietly watching the sun make its descent, listening to the birds sing and the leaves rustle from the breeze.

 

It was after Katniss had shivered once or twice that Peeta suggested they walk home, both having to work the following day. They arrived at Katniss’ door first, and with her key ready, she said, “Goodnight, Peeta. I’ve had... a strange and unexpected day, but it was so much fun.”

 

His expression relaxed as he smiled. “I’m glad. I had a great time, too. And I’m going to try hard to make you forget how I got us here so you never hold it against me.”

 

“What if I don’t want to forget?” Katniss replied, taking a step closer.

 

Peeta’s eyes danced over her face. His fingers brushed back a strand of dark hair that had fallen loose from her braid. He leaned in slowly, cupping the nape of her neck with his warm palm, and, inhaling a shaky breath, he pressed his lips gently to her cheek.

 

“Effie told me to start smaller, so I hope you don’t mind.” He must have sensed Katniss’ disappointment, but she nodded her understanding.

 

“I don’t mind,” she reassured Peeta, relishing the warmth from his kiss and how its heat radiated through every cell of her body. She agreed it was probably best to take things slowly, considering all the events of the day.

 

With final goodnights and a quick wave of his hand as he opened the door to his apartment, their first date was over.

 

Katniss was able to sleep that night and woke up feeling more refreshed than any night since her father’s death. Peeta seemed to have that effect on her— a calming effect— and now, as she heads down to the laundry room, basket in one hand, phone in the other, she can’t seem to wipe the sappy grin off her face.

 

* * *

 

His knuckles on her door have a distinctive sound. There’s a lower timbre to his knock than Madge’s, although she usually walks right in, fully entitled to make herself at home. Peeta’s still taking it slow, so there’s a deliberate quality to his rap. Katniss notices it right away, so when he comes to visit she intentionally waits a beat so he won’t think she’s running to open the door.

 

Tonight, he stands at her threshold appearing freshly showered, his hair darker with residual dampness. He wears a simple white t-shirt and a pair of jeans, which Katniss appreciates due to her love of simplicity and the way the fabric tugs and stretches with every movement.

 

“Hey,” he says, gnawing on his bottom lip. “Thanks for inviting me over.”

 

Katniss waves him in and smiles, his nervousness making him even more attractive. “Thanks for texting me. I don’t want to keep you from working in the studio, though.”

 

He walks past her, heading straight to the piles of folded laundry on her table. He smells delicious, that just-showered smell lingering with the cinnamon scents from the bakery. She wishes she could smell that good after work, since it usually takes a scrub-down to get the odor of raw meat off her skin.

 

“No, no problem. I’d much rather stay here with you than paint alone in the studio.” He takes a stack of her t-shirts and walks toward the bedroom. “Where do these go?”

 

Katniss follows behind, reaching out to take them from him, but decides instead to open the appropriate drawer. He slides them in neatly and returns to the living room for more.

 

“Really, Peeta, I don’t want you to put away my laundry. Here, have a seat and I’ll grab you a beer.” She lightly presses her hand against his chest, but he persists, holding his trunk firmly against her pressure.

 

“I’m not going to relax until you’re finished. C’mon, just a few stacks more. We’ll get it done together.”

 

Katniss sighs, knowing he likes to be useful and figures he’s right. She could use the help, after all. So together they put away all of her clean clothes, which ends up taking much less time with Peeta’s assistance.

 

“Do you want that beer now, or do you want to go out?” Katniss asks as she opens the refrigerator door.

 

“Mind if we just kick it here and watch a movie? We can order pizza or make PB&J?” He takes the opened beer bottle from Katniss and sits on the sofa. “Since we both work early tomorrow, I thought we could go out another night, if you approve.”

 

“I guess... _this_ time I’ll allow it,” Katniss teases as she plops next to Peeta, trying to keep her beer from spilling over.

 

A few sandwiches and a can of stew later, Katniss finds herself snuggling on the sofa with Peeta watching the end of _Major League_. During the movie, she would catch him glancing over as she laughed, and when she turned to meet his stare, he held the most sincere look of awe that shot right to her gut. It’s not that she doesn’t want Peeta to look at her like that. In fact, she’s pretty sure no man has ever looked at her that way, which might be why she feels sick at the thought. Or maybe it was all the peanut butter and stew; she can’t be sure.

 

She does appreciate curling into his side and fitting like a perfectly-sized piece to his puzzle, how his arm holds her against him as his large hand lightly palms her hip. She has already memorized the pace of his heartbeat because, every so often, when she nuzzles in tighter or touches his leg, she can tell it beats slightly faster. And when he lowers his lips to graze the crown of her head, skimming along the onyx strands, she’s secretly happy she used her passion fruit shampoo that morning.

 

But as the movie ends, and after successive yawns, Katniss looks up into his eyes, silently pleading to be kissed. He pecks her on the forehead and releases her from his embrace. His usual easy expression is replaced by something more intense and removed that suggests an entire world locked away inside him.

 

“Peeta?” she asks, about what, she’s not certain. His demeanor changed so suddenly that she’s worried she did something wrong.

 

He visibly shakes his head, as if he’s literally bringing himself back to the present, then smiles sweetly at Katniss. “I’m sorry, did you ask me something?”

 

“No, nothing important,” she mutters, scooting back to give herself room to stand. She pads into the kitchen to refill her water, ignoring that he follows her. As the liquid flows into her bottle, she sees him scoot his glass onto the counter.

 

“Please?” he asks quietly. She nods, filling his as well.

 

His fingers rake through the hair gracing her temple, but stop short when they get to her braid. He touches the band that's holding it together.

 

“Can I?” His voice filters through her ear, trickles to her chest, and drips down her arms to the very tips of her fingers.

 

Katniss gulps a timorous sip and nods. “Yes, yes you can,” she replies, inhaling measured breaths as her body waits for his touch.

 

As soon as her words leave her lips, his fingers carefully remove the band and sweep through, dismantling the woven locks. Katniss closes her eyes, reveling in the gust of tingles whipping around her neck and head, and that’s when he pulls her hair back, revealing the inviting curve of her neck.

 

His lips latch onto her sensitive skin, kissing her feverishly, hushed whispers escaping, worshipping her beauty. She feels as if she’s dreaming as he sprinkles kisses around the slope of her shoulder, down across her clavicle, then turns her toward him to catch the hollow of her neck.

 

“Open them up,” he murmurs. “I want to see the silver in your eyes.”

 

Katniss flutters her lids open to find Peeta’s hooded eyes, dusky and sensual, fixing on her like she’s his last meal. But she wants to be consumed by him, wholly and fiercely. So as he dips his head lower, she finds herself breathing shallow breaths, her stare locking in on his pink lips so near to hers she can almost taste him. And when his hand snakes around her hips, pulling her in closely, she gasps. She can tell by his grin that he’s pleased with the effect he has on her. So she wraps her arms around his shoulders, grasps the nape of his neck, and opens her mouth ever so slightly, taking his lips with hers.

 

He sighs and pulls her tighter to him, the fingers of one hand still nestled in her hair, and the other planted firmly on her ass. He moans into her mouth as their tongues finally meet, one laving the other, determining their own unique rhythm and flavor. She opens her eyes during their kiss and finds his are open as well, the bluest of blues so darkened with lust. The excitement strikes her right in her core, as the wanting, the passion, the I’d-give-anything-for-this-moment-to-last-forever feeling is something Katniss has never experienced before.

 

She barely realizes that she’s been hoisted onto the countertop, just missing the water bottle on the sink, as their kiss deepens and her legs wrap around his thighs. They devour each other’s blissful sounds as their hands explore each other’s skin, traveling over their bodies as if discovering unsettled land. And when the silky, soft caress of Peeta’s fingers roams up her calf and to her inner thigh, she physically shudders, the heated ecstasy merging in her most private places.

 

They remain there for seconds, minutes, hours— it’s hard to tell— but when Katniss can’t take it anymore, feeling the squeeze of Peeta’s hand over her breast, she grinds herself against his obvious hard on, hoping for some relief from all the tension built up inside her.

 

And that’s when it ends.

 

He pulls away, his pink lips inflamed from contact as Katniss dons her best pout. She’s not used to wanting more; this hunger is new and disquieting. But she doesn’t want to appear desperate and needy, so she gathers herself and slides off the counter, realizing her ass is completely numb from the pressure.

 

Peeta runs his hand through his hair, the freckles standing out more while he sheepishly grins. “Wow, that was something!”

 

“Yeah, it was something,” Katniss echoes, straightening her mop of hair and disheveled t-shirt and cut-offs.

 

“I had a great time tonight, ” Peeta says sincerely. “And I hope you don’t mind me breaking up... uh... what we had going on there, but... uh... I think it would have moved pretty quickly if we’d continued.”

 

“You’re probably right,” she hesitantly agrees, “and I know you want to take things slowly, which is probably better for us right now.”

 

Peeta takes a swig of his water and looks down for a moment, contemplating his next thought. “I’m trying to control myself, Katniss. I don’t want to slow down, but I also don’t want to scare you away.” His face conveys worry as he continues, “I’m still so fucking embarrassed by how we ended up meeting, and bringing it up again doesn’t help you forget, but I hope I can be the person I want to be around you and not a creep like some might think.”

 

“I told you that you’re not a creep.” She takes his hand and leads him toward the door. “I don’t want to forget, and I do understand where you’re coming from, but you’ve got to trust me to see who you really are all by myself.”

 

She perches onto her tiptoes and kisses him chastely on the lips. Pointing to the clock, she adds, “It’s after midnight, and you have to work at five?”

 

“Yeah, I do,” he replies solemnly, rubbing his hand along his forehead. Then he smiles as he walks toward the door. “Thanks for dinner. And... uh... thanks for that kiss.”

 

“It was quite a kiss, wasn’t it?” she says. The kitchen counter will never feel the same again. “Goodnight, Peeta.”

 

He walks out and bids a final goodnight, just before Katniss shuts the door and wonders what the hell just happened.

 

* * *

 

It started with the broken plates. The plates bordered by dark green leaves, just like she’d chosen at Cappy’s. They were crunching and breaking under her feet as she walked through the clouds of dust. But what had caused the plates to break?

 

Katniss can’t remember the whole dream, but she wakes up in a sweat, panting, and scared. The plates, the dust, the crying. Who was crying?

 

As she considers the fragments of her memory and tries to understand what caused her to wake in such a panic, she hears the door to the building shut. That could only be Peeta leaving at this hour.

 

Peeta. He was in her dream.

 

The flashes of him crying, screaming for her. The darkened abyss that separated them as she ran along broken shards of china. As if on a treadmill, they ran toward each other but continually failed. Not certain what this all means, she turns back to check on him.

  
As she watches him walk down the path to the sidewalk, her hand drifts to the window. “Stay with me,” she appeals as he disappears from her sight.


End file.
